


as the wind pours like a river

by verflixt



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Brief mention of animal death, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29574651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verflixt/pseuds/verflixt
Summary: As Anne and Anna spend an evening watching the sun set, the former seems preoccupied with her thoughts. Anna decides to let Anne share at her own pace, and finds she has apprehensions of her own to air.Mostly friendship-focused, with light Anne/Anna implied.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn & Anne of Cleves, Anne Boleyn/Anne of Cleves (implied)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	as the wind pours like a river

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a line from Margaret Atwood's "Shapechangers In Winter", an absolutely gorgeous poem that has big Six/reincarnated-lovers vibes. The first stanza establishes that the wind is being used as a metaphor for the passage of time.

Anne is having one of her moments again.

Anna observes this with no judgment; some of the others find it unnerving when Anne, normally so quick to share her opinions and feelings, falls oddly silent, face closed and drawn. But prying, Anna has found, is rarely productive. Anne will blink, shake her head, and then loudly scoff that she’s allowed to keep her thoughts to herself sometimes, thank you.

No. Better to wait for Anne to decide whether she wants to share. Besides, it’s not as if the view isn’t nice.

The two queens are perched on two adjacent boulders on a silty stretch of strand along the river near their home. They call it “the beach”, but it’s not really a proper beach; just a small strip of rocks and sand. It’s a nice enough place to watch the sun set, though, as Kat, Catalina and Cathy had realized on their walk home from the library one day.

And so Anne and Anna, finding themselves with an evening free, had decided to head to “the beach”, drinks in hand, to pass the time. They had chatted avidly about anything and nothing on the walk over, but the conversation had fallen into a lull once they had reached their destination. There’s a group of teenagers– or college students?– laughing loudly, smoking, and playing music near the gate, so Anne and Anna had settled closer to the water than they otherwise would. Anna attempted to revive the conversation then, pointing out the flock of geese bobbing in the water nearby, and then commenting that the river didn’t smell as bad as it usually did, but each time Anne only hummed in response. And so Anna resolved to let her decide what she wanted to talk about.

Another ten minutes of silence have gone by since then, and finally, Anne seems to be working herself up to speak. She takes a long drink from her beer, long neglected, then carefully sets the bottle down. She sighs and turns to gaze out over the water.

“Anna…” Anne begins, then pauses. Anna glances over at her face. Her expression, predictably, is distant and pensive. After a few beats, Anne looks over to meet her gaze.

“Do you think someone really threw my dog out of a window?”

Anna’s mouth falls open.

“Uh– um…?” 

Anna’s voice pitches up as she scrambles to formulate an appropriate response. Instead, to her horror, helpless laughter begins to spill out of her mouth. To Anne’s obvious irritation, she can’t stop, and as Anna gives up and throws her head back the sounds of her mirth spill out over the water. 

Anne’s eyebrows knit forebodingly.

“It’s not funny, Anna! Stop laughing! My dog, Purkoy! People say someone threw him out of a tower!”

“I– I– ” Anna makes a valiant attempt to pull it together, but can’t help a few stray giggles slipping out among her words. “You think that, uh, your dog was murdered? Five hundred years ago? And you want my forensic opinion?” She lets out a little snort.

Anne’s lips twitch upward. “Okay, it’s kind of funny when you put it like that. Really, though! You should understand, you cared about your dogs!” Her expression turns serious again. “He was an innocent animal. He didn’t deserve to die just because someone wanted to get back at me.” Then, after a moment, softly: “I guess they just hated me that much… you know?”

“Oh, Anne.” Anna sobers immediately. “It’s not your fault your dog died. Any more than it was your fault that anyone… else got killed. That you knew.”

Anne scowls. “Are you trying to make me feel better about my dead dog by reminding me that I also have a dead brother? Thanks, Anna. You should be a therapist.” But sarcastic as they may be, there’s no venom in her words. Anna feels safe scooting a little closer and wrapping an arm around Anne’s shoulders.

“Sorry I laughed. You have a right to be upset about Porky. Sometimes you can’t predict what you’re going to feel sad or guilty about. It’s not a logical thing. It shouldn’t be.”

“It’s pronounced _Pour-quois,"_ Anne corrects absentmindedly. “I guess you’re right. It’s the oddest things that keep me up at night,” she admits, then seems to bite her tongue.

“Yeah? Do you… want to talk about it?” Anna ventures cautiously. 

Anne shakes her head vehemently. 

“Okay, just checking. You can anytime if you want to, though,” Anna adds.

“Maybe someday. Right now it’s just– all tangled up in knots. Especially where my memories are hazy. I feel like I chase myself in circles inside my head.”

“You could try writing it down." 

“Oh, I’d just end up crossing it out over and over,” Anne dismisses. She takes a deep breath. “What about you, though? How are your memories?”

Anna shrugs, allowing her the abrupt change of subject. “I mean, it’s fuzzy, like for everyone. But I’m not really compelled to… excavate, the way some of you are. I mean, my life was pretty normal after the annulment.” It’s Anna’s turn to look away as she deflects. “So no, that doesn’t keep me up at night.”

Anne, predictably, prods her. “But something else does?”

Anna tips her head, choosing her words carefully. “I… I worry more about the present, actually. It’s just the six of us, as far as we know. It’s isolating. We’re so alone in what we’ve been through, adjusting to a second life five hundred years after a first. It’s amazing we’ve even figured out a way to survive.” _And how long can that last?,_ Anna adds to herself silently.

“We’ll always be here for each other.” Anne’s words come out with sudden intensity. “It scares me too. God, it’s terrifying. But we’ll always manage to figure it out. Together.” 

Anna blinks at the force of her optimism. “I hope so, too,” she agrees quietly.

Anne makes a disapproving noise. “No 'hope'. That's the way it's going to be.” She tosses her hair. “I’ve moved heaven and earth before. The universe must bend to my whims, if I will it.”

“It toooootally must,” Anna acquiesces, breaking out into a smile once more. Anne nods grandly and plucks up her beer once more, finishing it with a flourish. She lets out a sigh on contentment.

“Well, this was fun, but I’m getting the feeling I’m going to have to pee soon. Shall we head home?” Anne begins to rise.

“Oh, wait– I should take a picture,” Anna interjects, pulling out her phone. Anne shrugs, but sits down beside Anna once more, tucking the beer bottle out of sight.

“Okay, but make it quick. Otherwise those bushes over there are going to start looking mighty welcoming.” Despite her teasing, Anne smiles obligingly as Anne takes a few photos of the two of them, the river behind them. As Anna swipes through the photos to judge the result, she gets an idea.

“Hmm, one more. Just look out over the water like you were earlier,” Anna commands.

“Pretentious. But okay.” Anne obeys, once again turning her face to the water and setting sun. At just that moment, the breeze catches at her curls, tugging them along to flow with the wind. Anna finds herself suddenly breathless as she stares down at her subject, posture graceful and expression, for once, serene.

“Take a picture?” Anne reminds her after a brief pause.

“Yup. Just a couple more,” Anna recovers, hastily snapping the photo before stepping back with a nod.

“Great! _Finally._ ” Anne jumps up, only remembering after a moment to stoop and pick up her empty bottle.

“You looked pretty. I had to capture the moment,” Anna says easily. It’s the truth. So why does Anna feel suddenly… tense? Nervous, even?

Whatever it is, Anne doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Well, if the picture’s that good, be sure to send it to me!” Anne casts a last appreciative glance toward the fading sunset, then turns to go.

“I will!”

Anna stands for a moment in intent thought before following Anne to make their way home.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTES:  
> -Anne Boleyn had a dog named Purkoy (after 'pourquois'), and she was apparently very upset when it died in an 'accident' by falling. Some people speculate this was done maliciously.  
> -Anne saying she's moved "heaven and earth" before is, of course, her taking credit for Henry declaring himself the head of the CoE so they could marry (effectively moving the authority of 'heaven' from Rome to England).  
> -Once again, writing an Anne-&-Anna-centric fic is a nightmare. I'm sure I mixed up their names somewhere.


End file.
